Owls of a Feather
Gabrielle, Fleur Delacor's little sister, was staring at Hedwig. She had never seen a snowy owl before, and this certainly was a phenomenon for her.
"Oh, Harry, what a darling owl!" she said. She had grown less bashful around him than she was two years ago when he rescued her during the second match of the Quidditch cup.
"I'm sure Hedwig appreciated the compliment," Harry said, nonchalantly.
They were at Fleur and Bill's wedding. Hedwig's cage was placed on the same table as the cake. She watched zealously with her protuberant amber-colored eyes as the bride was lead down the stage, and Bill smiled through his werewolf wounds.
Hedwig wished she could be human, just so that she could feel this strange emotion they called "love." Oh, if she could get married and have roses spread along aisles, and family come to give her away…
She imagined Harry holding her wing, to bring her before her groom, which was a suave snowy owl from the Everglades, who had been on many adventures. After they got married, she and her husband would stay up late every night telling such stories that would make Grecian deities good listeners.
Harry's mind was not focused; he had "R,A,B, on the brain," as Ron kept calling it. Hermione was woolgathering that in a year's time her and Ron might be able to repeat the scene of his brother and Fleur playing before their eyes. Ginny was crying silently, in her flower girl dress. She understood why Harry broke with her, but that didn't mean she liked it.
"And I now pronounce you, wizard and witch. Let the spark's fly!" This sonorous, albeit bright and cheerful, voice belonged to no other than Ludo Bagman.
"Auroras Brilliocus," saida wizard wearing a pale-green cloak and standing to the side of the groom.
A fireworks display went off, showering everyone in a pool of light. Bill and Fleur kissed, and the ceremony was officially over.
A few months later, term began again, and Harry went to King's Cross as usual to catch the train. Hedwig slept on the ride, and was oblivious to all the goings on.
When the train pulled in at Hogwarts, someone carried Hedwig's cage to the Owlery and released her. Another year was starting, and she would help Harry whenever he needed her to deliver a package or letter.
She was very independent and observant. If Harry treated her poorly, she made sure he got what he deserved. Of course, she was obedient as well, like when she pecked Ron and Hermione's hands soar when they didn't write Harry letters of a decent length between the summer between his fourth and fifth years. But this was a sense of duty. She thought Harry was a just and kind master most of the time, but not always.
Hedwig expected the coming year to be a rather dull one. Sure, it was the last time she'd be here, in the Owlery, cooped up with all these other owls whose social stamina were far beneath her own. She would not deign to communicate with most of them. Why socialize with plebeians unless you are a plebeian yourself? And common barnyard owls were not worth her time.
But when November rolled around and Hedwig had still seen neither hide nor hair of master, she began to feel the horrors of being forsaken. It was as though Harry had abandoned her, and as she had no orders to go outside Hogwarts to deliver anything, she decided to find a companion. She would be leaving soon; why not just see if the other inhabitants of the Owlery had anything worthwhile to say?
She was very timid, when she tried to speak to a young gray, screech owl, of her own gender. "Um…hello."
But the young owl was in a cross mood. "Oh, so now Miss Priss condescends to speak with us? Master not treating you right, now? Maybe your wing is broken and he decided that you're useless, so he went out to buy another owl to replace you? Don't think I'd commiserate with a woman who has treated all of us poor unfortunate souls who are employed here at Hogwarts."
At this caustic allusion to Harry's probable neglect, Hedwig flew off to a perch to sulk. Had she really been unfair to these birds, who were her comates? Should she have been more amiable, more cordial, to the general public here? She imagined herself bending her beak to the floor, in sycophant obeisance—much to her displeasure—but at least she was liked.
A tawny, brown owl with ruffled feathers and protuberant eyes, flew up to Hedwig's perch. "Miss Hedwig, is it? Don't mind Trudy; she's had a bad time—no deliveries for a week! Why don't you just tell Verescont what's the matter?"
Hedwig attempted to speak through her tears. "Harrasnotytocumncme."
Verescont did a brash thing; he lifted his left wing and held it up to catch Hedwig's tears. This was an act of effrontery that would've offended her under normal circumstances, but at the moment she took no notice of it.
"Now, tell me it again."
"My master Harry won't come to see me, for whatever reason. He's probably tracking Horcruxes; I heard him talking about them in his sleep, back in August."
"You're Harry Potter's owl?" Verescont asked. The news surprised him. Hedwig was the most beautiful bird he ever laid eyes on, and if she belonged to Harry Potter as well, she was well worth wooing. Verescont was what may be termed a ladies' owl; he loved flirting and coquetry, and liked to engage in an activity called "double hunting," whereby you and a mate hunt together, and spend a night away from the oppression the presence of others occasioned.
Of course, Verescont was smart enough to know that Hedwig would not be so easy as to accept an offer to double hunt on the first day they met. Double hunting was for older acquaintances, and only a girl who was sincerely and devotedly interested in you would even consider going with you on such an outing.
"Yes, I belong to Harry Potter."
"What do you think of him, as a master, as a wizard, as a person, etc.?"
Hedwig gave him her opinion on this matter. They had polite and lengthy conversation, despite this being the day they met. Hedwig told him about her mother, Juliana, who belonged to a sorceress that lived in Siberia. The sorceress brought her owl to Great Britain, where she fell in love with Gadros, Hedwig's father. Since Gadros was wild, Juliana decided to fly away from her mistress and be with him. When Hedwig was six years old, a wizard caught her and sold her to Eeylops' Owl Emporium for a huge profit.
Verescont was very loquacious, and he told her a fantastical story about an uncle that fell in love with a duck. They could not mate; but they still were strongly smitten with one another. One day, a dragon named Norbert (in no way connected with Hadgrid's Norwegian Ridgeback) swallowed the duck's eggs that had been fertilized by another male of her own species. Verescont's uncle, in spite of himself, commanded the dragon to open up and permit him to retrieve the stolen eggs. The dragon jeered, but did as he was bid—for what beast would resist a chance to eat an incompetent fool who happened across his way? The uncle entered the mouth and flew down the throat. Afterwards, the dragon closed his mouth and licked his lips. He was still hungry.
The duck quivered as he advanced toward her. "You don't want to eat me!" she shouted.
"Ah, but what if I do? Who's to stop me?"
She pleaded, and entreated, and cajoled, as the dragon came to get his dessert, but his heart was made of ice, and he heard not these attempts to dissuade him. Finally, when the dragon's jaws were a mere inch away from her beautiful neck, she made a bet with him. If Verescont's uncle were to find a way to emerge from the dragon's body unharmed, and with her precious eggs whole and pristine like new, then he would have to let her live. If nothing happened, he could consume the duck if he still so desired. She proposed that they wait five minutes.
When the allotted time ran out, the dragon lunged for his dessert, despite her screams. He actually had her pretty neck between his two jaws. However, in his stomach, he felt movement, as if something were living in there. And then he felt a knock against it, and another, and other. A scar began to form near his chest, and it became wider and wider and wider, till at last an owlish head emerged, with five eggs ensconsed between its feet. The scar was so colossal that the dragon fainted, and died. The duck was safe, and Verescont's uncle was a hero.
"That's incredible!" Hedwig said, fascinated by this tale, and her eyes brimming with admiration for Verescont. Even if this story was a fabricated one, it meant that he had a vibrant imagination.
And so their friendship commenced. They spent every moment together, except when Verescont went out on his rounds. Trudy was very jealous; she had been his favorite before Hedwig interfered. If only her precious Harry would require her to send a letter to some far-off place, like Australia; then she'd be gone long enough for Verescont to forget about her. Possibly she would be killed on the way. One could only hope.
When Valentine's Day came, no two birds were more ready for it than Hedwig and Verescont. They were two owls of a feather. Everyone could feel the love vibrating and emanating from those two, bouncing on the walls and inspiring others to show their own emotions in their relationships. Hedwig went on her first double hunt that night, and she felt so free, so alive. She remembered her fancies at Fleur's wedding, how she imagined herself getting married to her knight in shining armor. Verescont was that knight. Of course, she knew that owls didn't have official ceremonies and whatnot in the way of marriage, but it was still a vivid and ineffaceable picture from her mind.
One thing Verescont had told Hedwig that she had trouble believing was that anurans were a delicacy.
"Owls don't eat frogs," she had told him matter-of-factly, when he first suggested this. "For one thing, our beaks aren't made for it."
"Well, you wouldn't thing we do. And it is not usually heard of. I believe there's an ancient proverb against it; however, we live in modern times and reserve the right to ignore the admonitions of decrepit aphorisms. So, my sweet Hedwig, whenever you feel like indulging yourself, I suggest anuran."
Hedwig's first opportunity to test Verescont's assumption that batrachians were a delectable treat occurred one day when the chubby and aloof Neville Longbottom entered the Owlery. Neville had met Seamus Finnigan's little sister, who was in the fifth year. She was such a darling, pretty, and best of all, nice to him. Not "nice" in the since that Ginny Weasly was nice, going with him to the Yule Ball in his fourth year. Casey Finnegan really liked Neville, and tailed him whenever she was not in her classes. He sometimes hinted that she should go study for her O.W.L.'s, but she said that the only way to maximize her utility would be to spend every waking moment in his company. Neville was falling behind in his N.E.W.T. work, and he needed some advice on what to do regarding Casey. If he had any hopes of taking on Professor Sprout's Herbology post when she retired, he had to have time to concentrate.
He had come into the Owlery to send a letter to his grandmother, even though he knew she was the last person in the world who would give him good advice. After all, what could you expect from a batty old woman who had failed her Charms O.W.L. miserably? If there was any word that was least likely to describe Mrs. Longbottom, it was charming.
At this time, Hedwig spotted Trevor's head sticking out of Neville's pocket. She had often seen the little critter before, and as she expected, he made yet another one of his frequent bids for liberty. But, with Verescont's encouragement in her mind, she made a dash for him, catching him beneath her sharp claws and driving them into his oleaginous flesh. Neville had sent an owl on his way, and turned around, eyeing the murder of his beloved frog.
"Stop!" he yelled at Hedwig, and rushed at her. There was a scuffle—feathers flew everywhere, and one of her claws was maimed. Trevor's life was saved. Neville scooped him up, and giving Hedwig one last reproachful look, he dashed from the Owlery.
The next day, Harry came up with Luna Lovegood. She was explaining to him about brissci, tiny lobsters that lived in cocoa beans. Supposedly, whenever someone ate chocolate with brissci in it, their skin turned purple and their voices became hoarse. The reason this doesn't happen to everybody is that brissci cannot survive extreme temperatures, and most chocolate is heated, thereby killing them. Only living brissci can perform the transformation.
"Hedwig," Harry called, and she came toward him, tentatively. "Neville tells me that you attacked his toad. Is this true?"
Hedwig hung her head, dejectedly. Harry was ready to berate her, but Luna stopped him.
"Harry, she didn't mean it, I'm sure. It's just that you haven't been visiting her lately, and she thought the best way to get your attention to would be to go after one of your friends. When was the last time you came up here to see Hedwig?"
"I haven't been up here since the school year began," Harry admitted. "But when one is searching for Horcruxes, what do you expect? I've only found three so far, and its already March second. By the way, how do you know that that's what Hedwig is feeling?"
"Woman's intuition, Harry. You and I both know that owls don't eat toads. She misses you a lot."
Harry stared at Hedwig. Her expression was one of misery. He understood how she felt, for during his summer months he had often been without a friend. Now here was his owl, sheltered in this coop, alone and isolated. He commiserated with her.
"Harry, it's time to go. You have an essay to write for Professor Umbridge and Hermione's not going to be able to help you this time. She's too stuck on Ron."
They walked away, Harry listening to Luna telling him about Groccis, a giant ladybug who lived in the Alps and ate deer for breakfast.
Hedwig was a little merry after Harry left. She had got her wish to see her master again granted, after all.
She was unable to fly for a while, because Neville's struggle to save Trevor from her gnashing claws had damaged one of her wings. During her period of invalidity, Verescont brought her food, though he never brought her anuran remains for two reasons: 1) he feared it might upset her, and 2) he believed that if an owl desired to eat batrachians, he or she had to catch their own prey.
It was the beginning of April before Hedwig's wing had fully coalesced. That very night, she went on a hunt, and got her first taste of freedom in a month's time. While she was in the air, she stretched out her wings and embraced the beautiful feeling running through her veins. Then she looked down, and spotted her quarry.
It was an old frog, and he would die naturally within a few hours. But Hedwig did not know this, and even if she had, she would've killed him. It is much more satisfactory and savory that way, and so that is usually the best course of action.
He saw Hedwig coming toward him, and shouted in a croaky voice, "Don't hurt me!"
She was reminded at this point of Verescont's story about his uncle and the duck who was almost eaten by a dragon. She stopped to listen.
"Mrs. Owl, I am old, decrepit, moribund, etc. If you promise not to kill me, I will relate my story to you. You will find it useful, I am sure."
Hedwig promised.
"I see I can trust you. My name's Ilp. When I was a young little tadpole, all the other children used to make fun of me, called me a dolt, and all kinds of other slighting appellations. So I made a wish to Corlask to give me wisdom teeth.
"You, Mrs. Owl, being an animal familiar with the magical world, probably have never heard of Corlask. She is the fairy for all creatures great and small, with fur and feathers. She must grant one wish for every animal that asks it, but you should be careful what you wish for, because that one wish is all you will ever get. There are only two beings that cannot ask Corlask to grant them any wishes, and those are the humans and the serpents.
"Well, I asked her for wisdom teeth, and she gave them to me. I was the most intelligent anuran in the entire world. Other batrachians came to see me about their problems, and I was able to work them out. I also practiced the custom of human beings to walk on two legs, and donned clothes like Adam's Sons. Soon, I began to lord over my fellow frogs and toads. Many hated me for it, but they had no choice but to be subjugated.
"Some group loathed me so much that they forced a beautiful frog in their came to also wish for wisdom teeth. Corlask saw my lust for power, and she had qualms about giving another anuran such accessories. However, Shayara (the frog who made the wish) was adamant, this is what she wanted, and she would not rest until she received it.
"It was all a ploy. Shayara was being used to break down the monarch, in other words, myself. I was convinced that I loved her, for she was so resplendent and sweet and her voice was dulcet. And she seemed to fawn over me, though she found me repulsive.
"There was a contest held in Cairo, Egypt three years after I married Shayara, for the Most Beautiful Animal in the World. I was excited when the invitation was sent. Thousands of good-looking creatures entered. They had the contestants perform tricks and participate in rounds to dazzle the judges with their beauty.
"Shayara won, with flying colors. I was so pleased, to be the husband of the Most Beautiful Animal in the World! However, things were not as great as they seemed. For the prize of the contest was to be burnt alive.
"It was an owl who told me this. Gladwing was his name, and his hue was the same as yours, Mrs. Owl. It was shocking, and I offered myself instead. Shayara was my life, my hope, my world. If she were to die, what would be left? Nothing but emptiness, abject misery.
"Gladwing told me why the contest was set up that way, and it was something to this effect. 'Beauty is ugliness. It is the enemy of ambition, the enemy of truth, the enemy of goodness. It is no wonder that Samson was destroyed by a pretty woman. All that is evil, all that is vicious, all that wrecks the world and brings us our suffering, is caused by beauty.'
"I argued, with all the puissance of a great polemicist, but to no avail. Gladwing ordered Shayara's death. And as I watched the flames encircle her, saw the horror on her face, saw her body turn to ash, my wisdom teeth fell out. Corlask's wish had expired.
"Mrs. Owl, I tell you this story for two reasons. One is that I believe you should avoid love at all costs. It is dangerous, destructive, and not to mention painful. I will not go so far as to say that love is evil, but in my heart, I feel it is, since I have lived these many years in sheer agony.
"My other reason for telling you my story is to inform you of Corlask, and what you can get from her. Animals with your associations are usually ignorant of our benefactress, who makes dreams come true. I only give you this little admonition: Be careful what you wish for.
"Now, if you are still intent on eating me, I advise you to do so immediately."
Hedwig stared at Ilp, and shook her head. His story convinced her that it would be far better to let him live a trifle longer.
"If you won't, then it'd be best to let me die in peace. Thank you for being a good auditor, and I wish you well."
She left him, and flew as if heading in the direction of the castle, but when she was sure Ilp wasn't watching, she turned around and perched herself in the tree beside which the frog lay on the ground. He was gazing at the moon, the last one he'd ever see. He looked penitent, probably feeling remorse for all the pain and suffering he had caused others as a monarch. Then, he leaned back, shut his eyes, and was listless. His soul had gone on to new waters. Hedwig caught a mouse, and returned to the Owlery to enjoy her meal.
Hedwig knew exactly what she would ask Corlask for: the chance to always be with Verescont. But how to make the wish? Would the fairy just come running at her beck and call? She decided to try it; after all, what could it hurt?
"Corlask. Corlask. I call upon you to grant me a wish."
At first, nothing happened. Then she felt her instincts kick in. She knew what she had to do now. "Corlask, your dear Hedwig is desirous of your presence."
A split second later, a tiny woman wearing vegetative garments and with light, unkempt brown hair, appeared. All the surroundings were frozen in time; there were no screeches, no fluttering of wings, no noises whatsoever. The only two figures who were in any way animated were Hedwig herself and Corlask.
"Did you call me, my dear Hedwig?"
"Yes I did. I was told you grant wishes."
"Indeed I do. What would you like? Although I must warn you: once I grant it, it is over. The is no way to reverse the magic, unless someone else is willing to give up their wish to help you."
"I know what I desire," Hedwig breathed. "I want to be perpetually with Verescont, by his side through thick and thin, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, and for us both to forsake all others, till death do us part."
"So, my dear Hedwig, you want to get married. Well, it usually isn't done among animals."
"But I'm different from others. I'm Hedwig, the owl of Harry Potter."
"Yes, I know you are. But do you still think you would belong to Harry Potter after you get married?"
"I almost don't belong to him now; the only time he came to see me this year was to scold me for attacking Neville's toad. Besides, I am in love," Hedwig said, passionately.
Corlask winced when she heard this. "Hedwig, I'm sorry to tell you that it is against my better judgment to grant your wish. Harry needs you, or he will, and if you marry Verescont, you won't be able to help him. And besides, there are much better things in store for you than some flashy school owl. Give it time, and trust me, the fruits of your patience will be so rewarding that you'll find it difficult to believe that you ever wanted to marry Verescont."
With this last quick speech, Corlask vanished into thin air, and nothing Hedwig tried could bring her back.
A few weeks later, Hedwig caught Verescont and Trudy returning from a double hunt, laughing at a joke the latter had just made.
Hedwig broke down in tears. Verescont loved her! What was he doing running about with that tramp, that hoyden, when just yesterday he had whispered the sweetest adulations of her beauty and charm? She didn't want to believe it, but Corlask was right. Verescont was not her true love.
In June 1998, Harry fought his final battle against Lord Voldemort. And Hedwig was with him. Peter Pettigrew tried to send an Avada Kedavra curse at Harry, but Hedwig twisted the wand around and Wormtail hit himself before he realized what had happened.
The battle raged on, thunder roared from the sky. And the Death Eaters fell, one by one. Then Ron was hit by the Imperious Curse, and he took Harry's wand. Voldemort stared coldly at his quarry, whom he had desired to kill for the last sixteen years.
"So, defenceless, are you now, Potter? Friends betray you? Well, how sad! But I'm not here to pity you, Potter; I hope you didn't expect that."
Harry scowled. "You'll never defeat me, Tom Marvolo Riddle. I destroyed all your Horcruxes, and I have a power you wouldn't understand if you lived thousands and thousands of years."
"And what is this mysterious, esoteric power that I am incapable of comprehending, Potter?"
"It is the power, of love."
"Love doesn't exist, Potter. I bet Dumbledore taught you that, hmm? Well, this will teach you to listen to some half-brained, senile, hackneyed fool!" And Voldemort raised his wand. "Avada Kedavra."
Then a flash of red hair jumped in front of Harry. "If you want to get to Harry, you have to get me first," Ginny Weasley said. The blast hit her full in the chest, and she dropped down, like a leaf in late autumn.
"Ginny!"
"Yes, you're precious girlfriend has just kicked the bucket. And you thought you were protecting her, by breaking up with her a year ago. But now all you've done is lost twelve months of time you could've spent together."
"Voldemort, for that last deed you have done, you will perish!"
"Oh? To me, it looks as if you're not in a position to be making threats. And now it's time to follow in the footsteps of your loved one. Avada Kedavra!"
This time, Harry's last protector, Hedwig, flew in front of the blast.
"Hedwig, no!"
"Now Harry, your mother died to save you. Your ex-girlfriend did the same. And so did your owl. By my tally, nobody's left! And so, you will not survive!" And one last time, the Killing Curse was cast, and Harry was its target.
Things appeared to go in slow motion, as Harry watched his Death coming near. He supposed that it was inevitable. Voldemort was too puissant to be overcome. The entire world would soon be at his mercy, and there was nothing he could do about it.
The green spell was coming closer…and closer. He felt his life being sucked from his body…worse than a Dementor's kiss. This was real, unimagined, the end.
But then, it stopped. Harry saw the green light retreating, going back the way it came. Toward Voldemort. And the cacophony of screams filled the air, as if a demon had been caught unawares. Where the shadow of Lord Voldemort stood, a second later there was a loud thud. He had destroyed himself, intending to kill Harry.
The wizard looked around for the one who had saved him. All he saw was another owl, not Hedwig, much larger and more wise and ancient. The owl almost seemed to be speaking. "I protected you," it mouthed. And Harry understood.
"Harry!" a mellifluous voice called.
He turned round. "Ginny? But I saw you die, jump in front of a Killing Curse to save me."
"That was Hermione, my dear. I tried to stop her, but she insisted on drinking the Polyjuice Potion and pretending to be me. She thought that Voldemort's murdering me would incite you enough to devise a way to defeat him."
Harry stared at the lump where he thought Ginny Weasley had fallen. The girl who lay in peaceful bliss now sported slightly curled, brown hair. Hermione had sacrificed herself.
The strange owl glided over to where Hedwig was, and began to cry. His tears had a salubrious effect on her. Presently, she arose.
"How am I alive? Wasn't I hit by the Killing Curse?"
The strange owl spoke. "Yes, you were. However, that curse is meant for human beings and not animals; all you required to revive were a few tears."
Hedwig stared at the speaker. Her heart was palpitating. It was his tears that revived her, she realized. What majestic eyes he had, and soft, fine feathers, and a beautifully curved beak! He was much more handsome than Verescont.
"What is your name?" Hedwig asked him.
"Gladwing."
The name rang a bell, but Hedwig could not recall where she had heard it. "Gladwing, do you think you could love me?" she asked, blinking profusely, in the hopes of wooing him.
This act of effrontery was a cause for resentment. They had just met; what was she thinking?
"I'm sorry," he said. "You are too beautiful for my aspirations. Find someone who is worthy of your looks." Then he took to the skies.
Hedwig watched him go, her heart rent in two. She was sure Gladwing was the one…
A few days later, Verescont left Hogwarts in search of Hedwig. He searched high and low, with futile results, until he arrived at the Burrow, where she was staying while Harry and Ginny were on their honeymoon.
When she saw the brown tawny enter, Hedwig turned her back to him. If he thought she was going to be kind to him after his coquetry with Trudy, he was sadly mistaken.
"Want to go for a double hunt?" he asked her, believing himself to be the sole master of her heart.
"With you? Never!" she said, with emphasized rudeness.
"But…I thought we had a thing going there."
"Until you went traipsing around with Trudy."
"Oh," Verescont laughed. "That was nothing, sweetheart. It was just to comfort her for a loss; she's had a death in her family."
"It looked like you were really having a good time."
"I was."
This response made Hedwig's blood boil. She scratched his face miserably with her claws. "That'll teach you to have fun with other girls when somebody thinks they love you."
Verescont went away, upset and melancholy. A few weeks later, some hunter found a piece of his wing in a forest, for most of his carcass was eaten by a fox.
And Hedwig was lonesome, without Gladwing or Verescont. But did not Corlask say that better things were in store for her? She wondered…